


✿ The Farce of Escape

by crankparadise



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 09:57:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3605919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankparadise/pseuds/crankparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CONTAINS SPOILERS TO THE DEATH CURE<br/>"Newt had once said he was jealous of Minho because he never cried.<br/>Minho was jealous of Newt because he could cry.<br/>He should have read the signs before it was too late."</p><p>a Maze Runner fanfiction in the glade pre-thomas and pre-jump. Which is something that I wanted to put into words for a while. This fic deals with the build-up to the saddest day on the glade as well as the dwindling prospects of escape. Minewt, but can be read also as true genuine friendship between Minho and Newt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	✿ The Farce of Escape

  
The vast expanse of the days and days in the glade always seemed endless. Sure there were hopes of escape, and there were runners who would dedicate their hours to chasing down the walls that baffled and enveloped them all. But despite all the wasted breath about hope and order, no amount of running could silence the voice in the back of every glader’s mind that there was just no way out. But there were days that felt more endless than others.

Minho had known that there was no way out of the maze for exactly 431 days now, and despite his general exterior of cocky hopefulness, he was beginning to feel warn out by the farce of escape.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

This 432nd day of running for nothing seemed more endless than the 431 other wasted days. Today, he couldn’t help the feeling that the practice of false hope was becoming one that was hard to repeat over and over to the hopeful, hopeless faces of his fellow gladers, his family. Some days it was so bad that he wished he could just run and run forever, not that he could go any further than right off The Cliff; and he’s thought about it, but never for long enough to pull through.

  
He uncharacteristically stuttered from sprint to a heavy-footed walk at the sight of the entrance of the glade coming to view in front of him. As he pushed away thoughts of dead ends and despair, Minho thought about how the light of the glade was always brighter than that of the maze, and how that always seemed sickeningly ironic. As if the smug, faceless bastards that locked them in here, were comforting the runners on their return; it was like a cold embrace that caused a shiver, playing with the idea that the light was here and it was okay now, that they were home.

Today, next to the ringing sound of his footsteps that were going nowhere as he ran, all Minho had heard in his head was the thought and image of Newt. Who was definitely getting worse and  _worse_.   
Minho, like the other gladers, wished he could determine what Newt was getting worse  _with_. Why some days he whistled and laughed like a bird and other days he deflated entirely and retired to the Homestead for hours. The birdlike days were becoming less and less, and it seemed that Newt was walking with a shadow around him at all times, despite the fact that there was no sun to cause a shadow.

It soon became evident to Minho that he wasn’t the only one watching the Second-in-command as he seemed each day to progressively lose himself to something that nobody understood. Gally had recently muttered that Newt was getting off easy in that he could pick and choose the days to be helpful and run, and when to slack off, but as Minho and Alby turned sharply to look at the builder, his badly hidden softened expression read that he was just as worried, but apart from that instance, Newt’s occurring sadness was one noticed by all, and never mentioned out loud.

At that moment, Ben zipped past Minho’s shoulder, the contact close enough to give him the silent affirmation that Ben new Minho was thinking hard and that he wasn’t going to wait up. Which suited the Keeper fine. Ben had only been Minho’s running partner for three days now, and Minho hadn’t warmed to having a new running partner; He missed running with Newt. Who’s odd behaviour was stretching right into his running. Newt had been recently appointed second-in-command to Alby, and because of this, it was granted that he was allowed days off from running. Though, everyone knew the real reason for the days off was the obvious fact that alongside his growing sadness, Newt was growing increasingly hesitant and frightened about running in the maze.

Although, these granted days off were not the reason that Minho was no longer running with Newt at his side.

  
_"I’d like a different running partner." Newt had loudly announced three days ago in the company of Alby, Minho and the other runners._  
_As Minho looked up slowly from the maps, his eyebrows raised and his expression confused, Newt’s new forced confidence softened to a whispered “Please, if that would allowed.”_  
_"But you’re my running partner." Minho stated as he stood up fully and crossed his arms. Not breaking eye contact, his expression didn’t hide his confusion at the sudden request. Newt just nodded._  
_"I’d like a different one, if that would be allowed. I know what I’m doing."_  
_Minho shared a hopeless look with Alby, who looked equally confused._  
  
_Newt’s determined expression softened to sadness, “Please, Alby, please.”_  
  
_Despite the fact that Minho had been shaking his head since Newt had spoken, Alby, far too gentle on Newt for his own good, had granted the unusual request and typically, no one had argued._

  
Back to reality, Minho scuffed the ground with his right foot as he thought about how he couldn’t help or rescue his friend from his confusing but growing sadness. A sadness that wasn’t confusing in that it wasn’t justified, confusing only in how, with lack of memory or better judgement, Minho had no way to help or understand why his best friend was getting worse and worse as if he was falling into something Minho couldn’t reach no matter how hard he tried.

He had even asked for help from the box. He had requested books, medicine, relaxation methods, anything. He had requested absolutely anything he could think of in an useless attempt to be the one to take the sadness off of Newt’s shoulders. All that came up in response was bandages and padding and other useless things.

Before he came to the opening of the South glade door, Minho’s careful eye caught sight of Newt, who was sitting hunched in a little nook beside a tree. His position making him look as small and warn out as the runner felt. When they ran together, Newt’s lean, agile form made him faster than Minho even towards the end of their daily route and despite the uncharacteristic request to change partners, he had still been at the entrance of Minho’s door waiting for him as usual. Minho, trying to shake himself into his usual cockiness, told himself that the reason Newt was so attentive to the runner meetings was because it must be the most important thing to Newt to know which door that Minho would be coming back to him.   
  
But deep down Minho knew Newt was beginning to rather die than run, and probably was always running back to the glade fast for safety only, the keeper never crossing his troubled mind.

  
Newt attended every single runner meeting whether he decided to run that day or not. Usually standing with both an air of authority and a thoughtful expression about a foot behind the other runners who assembled around the table to receive their appointed path. Increasingly though, Newt began to stand closer in those meetings, his eyes flickered more anxiously than usual between each running path as they were given out, tapping one foot against the floor nervously and not unusually tugging his hair into impatient bunches. Everyone noticed. 

Minho ignored the duty inside him to return to the Map Room and plopped himself down beside Newt. He was out of breath, but as he had been walking the final duration of his route it was either only due to the fact that he had to lie again that they would all be out of here soon, or because those lies just weren’t coming today. So he didn’t say anything, and neither did Newt.

  
Minho watched his sad-eyed friend as he shifted to bundle his long legs closer into himself. At which movement Minho noticed that Newt’s usually shoulder-length hair had been cut haphazardly to just below his ears.

  
"You cut your hair." Minho eventually stated. Newt nodded and in doing so, shook his hair so that it fell in front of his eyes which he didn’t bother to push away.   
  
"I didn’t run today." The blond boy said instead, and Minho nodded because he knew. Looking away and onto the glade, he could see the runners craning their necks looking for him so they could all gather in that ridiculous room to pretend once again that they were closer to finding a way out.

Defeat flooded Minho’s veins today more than any other day.   
  
Newt finally sniffed and lifted his head to look at Minho, out of the corner of his own eye, Minho could see the shimmer of tears in Newt’s.

"There’s no way out of here is there?" his voice shook and Minho cleared his throat to lie.

"Of course there is, why do you think I go out there?" But Newt had buried his head back into his arms.

"To pretend. To be able to come back here and lie to me." he muttered.

Minho wanted to argue that there were so many reasons to keep running. He wanted to laugh in his own voice and throw his arm around Newt, and shake him back into focus. But Minho stared ahead.   
Then Newt moved to right in front of Minho’s gaze. His eyes were dark, and big, and sad, and totally hopelessly endless.

"I need you to look me in the eye and tell me there’s a way out of here."   
Minho couldn’t find the words, Newt’s eyes began to tremble.

"Please, Minho, please." he begged in the worst way.

"Newt I- This is ridiculous why would you- I need to go to the map room." He prized Newt’s arm away from him and tore out of the forest, straight past the box. Cursing himself for his weakness and terrible excuse. Then, taking a deep breath and shaking thought from his head he prepared to lie to the runners as well.

   ✿   ✿   ✿

  
That night Newt wanted to sleep beside him.

They were best friends, but due to their different levels of authority as well as the fact that breaking habit would cause attention, Newt slept in the Homestead and Minho slept in varying locations. Each night pretending that something was changing as well as to ensure his solitude.   
Minho did a lot of pretending and being alone.   
  
"I just, I want to be with you tonight." Newt muttered shakily. "I know what I’m doing." He said like before, but he didn’t sound sure.  
  
Today he hadn’t been speaking naturally to anyone, as if he was constantly on the verge of some impending doom. Minho nodded and decided to force a smile. Alby had already yelled at Newt before dinner for moping around and worrying everyone more than usual, and although Minho was equally frustrated and unsettled by Newt’s fragility today, he didn’t want to be another reason to cause him extra upset. Alby’s loss of patience with Newt had resulted in the boy not attending dinner at all and the guilty silence that fell between them was probably the reason that Newt was before Minho right now, the frustration in his eyes that was probably towards himself made him look especially and unsettlingly helpless.

"I know you usually sleep alone-" Newt muttered.   
"No, it’s fine. Of course you can sleep with me."

They lay side by side facing skyward on the ground, on blankets and pillows that worried gladers had brought over in an attempt to settle their once strong mother figure. Minho watched how Newt had hugged them all appreciatively, thanking them all by name. Minho watched as Newt clutched the boys a little too long as if it was before he released them onto the big bad world. Minho also watched how each of the boys had clung back. Their tired eyes ever aware of Newt’s sadness.

Hearing it, feeling it and hating it like they all did, but only clutching him helplessly for loss of words to help.

When they had all reluctantly left Newt with Minho, the Keeper couldn’t help this gut feeling of something bad to come, his head started spinning in confusion at the feeling.

"Minho tell me that it will all be over soon." Newt said through a sigh, and for some new reason his tears were gone.

"It will all be over soon." Minho echoed, feeling the metal hollowness in his voice. He tried to silence the gut feeling as he stared to the sky, the trees, anywhere but Newt’s eyes.

"Tell me that you’re happy."   
"I’m happy." and then Newt scoffed.   
"That was a bloody test, you’re not looking at me. You’ve gotten so good at lying by not looking at me." 

Newt scooted closer and Minho turned to look at his sad eyes, his heavy smile.   
"Don’t ask me to lie then, shank." Minho responded, and the slang felt loose in his mouth like he couldn’t be himself.   
"Tell me you love me." Newt said confidently, not breaking gaze with the Keeper.   
"I love you." Minho said without hesitation, and the sadness in Newt’s eyes widened to fear.

"I’m so scared Minho." He whispered.

"Best thing to do is not think." Minho responded absently, although he wasn’t entirely sure what Newt was talking about. He lay totally torn to stillness by both his denial of the gut feeling and the urge to comfort his friend.

As they fell softly into a hazy sleepy atmosphere, Minho felt Newt take his hand.   
  
"I need you to tell me one more thing Minho." Newt whispered "I need you to tell me that what I’m doing will be worth it."

Minho was confused but he turned to Newt. His original feelings of defeat were lessoned by these words, he thought of all their planning and how they built up the glade from nothing. How they’ve grown, what they’ve learned. How he’s ran so far and ran all this time for Newt.

He turned confidently to Newt “You’re doing the right thing. Everything you’re doing will be worth it.”   
Newt nodded and sighed. Smiling through his tears that still weren’t falling.   
"and I love you too."   
"Goodnight now, Newt."   
  
"Goodnight, Goodbye."

Minho slept despite the gut feeling.   
  
_The next day, day 433. Newt jumped off the maze wall to end his own life._ **  
**  
Newt had once said he was jealous of Minho because he never cried.   
Minho was jealous of Newt because he could cry.   
  
He should have read the signs before it was too late.


End file.
